Odin's son
by Yesterday's dreams
Summary: The line separating him from insanity was so thin. What if Loki did not cross it?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters of this story and I do not make any money. It's written for entertainment purposes only. Thank you.

Read and review, have fun and forgive any potential mistakes; English is my second language, though I had help of a great beta. Sephaya, thank you.

* * *

**1. Prologue**

"Your father entered Odinsleep."

Loki had heard the door open and close, had heard her voice. For a minute, he remained motionless, the unwelcomed thought resonating within his mind. _He is not your father._

"Loki, please."

He finally turned to face Frigga. Her hands were clasped behind her back, tightly holding onto the door handles of her bedroom door behind which Odin Allfather was resting. She looked haggard, her eyes were red and he could see faint traces of hastily wiped off tears.

"How long will it last?"

"I don't know."

Hesitatingly he moved towards her, reaching out with one hand. Would she touch him? Why would she do it, though? He was nothing but a monster, everything he did was wrong somehow, always coming back to mock him, haunt him. Thor's botched-up coronation, amusing as it was, hadn't brought anything more than grief, and so their ill-fated journey to Jotunheim.

Loki only wanted to show to their… _He is __**not**__ your father!_

He wanted to show Thor's father how unprepared his heir was. Mission accomplished, that's the truth, though the consequences were much direr. _Banishment_. _Odinsleep_. _War_. Yes, everything Loki did came back to haunt him. _Failure, you are a failure._

Frigga tiredly put her arm through his, for a short moment resting her forehead on Loki's shoulder.

She was so petite. He had outgrown both her and Odin years ago. Frost Giant, indeed – he might be small for a giant's offspring, but he certainly was tall enough for an Asgardian.

"Stubborn old fool. He had to put it off for so long…"

Loki nodded slowly, not really hearing the words, and led his…Thor's…mother to the windows and sat her on cushioned bench there. They could see the lights underneath the palace, hear the wind singing. It was so warm here, so, _so,_ warm.

_You don't belong here, you monster._

He couldn't breathe, one hand leaning on the window frame, the other clenched tightly.

"Why? Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't you? That I am a Frost giant."

Silence. Then Frigga lightly touched his fist and pried it open, interweaving her fingers with his. She smiled a little and forcefully yanked him down to sit next to her. Warily, Loki let her.

"I was wondering what could possibly send him into such a deep sleep and made you so moody at the same time." Frigga sighed and her other hand touched Loki's cheek, turning him to face her.

"He only wanted to protect you from the truth."

_Lies, they are lying…_

It was the exact same words Odin had said. Loki shook his head, ready to object, yet his mother didn't give him any chance and continued:

"I agreed with his decision. We didn't want you to feel any different from Thor, we wanted you to know that we are your family."

_They're not._

"Thor was always his favorite, father always paid more attention to him…"

"Of course he did." Frigga chuckled. "Thor demanded your father's attention more forcefully than you, my dear boy. Remember? What did your brother make any time he felt bored?"

"A mess." Loki snorted. Oh, he did, he did remember very well. Frigga's eyes were so clear, so serene – despite the redness or maybe because of it, Loki felt grounded and the whispering was slowly becoming only a distant humming in the back of his mind.

"And what did you do?"

"I was never bored." His mouth twitched. That was true – his brother always managed to cause chaos everywhere he went with everything he did. Loki had been content to watch how their father had meted out punishments and dealt with the messes. In the rare cases when Loki found himself without anything to do, he needled his brother or otherwise occupied himself with mischief-making… but he'd never tried to play jokes on his father or cause troubles for the king.

"You can trust me when I say that your father was very grateful that at least one of his sons was well-behaved. You never caused him worries, Loki, and he knew you did not need to be supervised all the time… not as Thor did."

They shared a small smile before Loki looked away.

"Now, come and see your father, it will help him recover to know you are there."

He doubted that, though Frigga stood up and tugged her reluctant son with her back towards the bedroom door. The room behind it was dark; the only light was coming dimly from the bubble surrounding Odin on his bed. Loki felt like a small boy again when they entered and he sat down on the chair next to his father while Frigga settled on his other side, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently stroking her husband's hand.

Loki watched them. He remembered well the first time he had seen the Allfather like this – how much it confused him, how scared he felt and how fervently he wished that _his_ father would wake up.

He felt guilty. Thor had reacted like he always had – making things difficult – but the current mess was created by Loki. His attempt to postpone Thor's coronation made all of Asgard vulnerable and with it the other realms, too. He was no better than his idiotic brother and they both shared the guilt for sending Odin into his sleep. The only difference was that Thor was gone, too.

"What am I going to do?" He asked quietly.

"You must not lose hope that everything will be all right. Your father will wake up and your brother will find his way back to us. In the mean time _we_ are going to deal with the mess you've managed to create, of course." Frigga answered and her son looked at her in surprise. "I know perfectly well what you did, my dear God of Mischief – and don't try to pull off that innocent face, it could work on your father, but I know very well what you've been up to for all these years."

Loki gaped at his mother, more than a little shocked. He was certain that nobody ever suspected him from the few small happenings that had erupted in chaos in the kitchens, in the armory, in the stables… or anywhere in the palace, actually.

"I don't know what you are talking about." He said prickly. He certainly hoped she was not referring to the fact he had let the Frost giants inside Asgard. That could be considered treason.

"I'm sure you don't." She said calmly. "Just don't let enemies invade the palace again, please."

There was silence for several long minutes and Loki watched the Asgardians who had been his parents for most of his life. He did not feel any different from them, even though his mind was whispering treacherous words again. That he was unworthy of their affection, of their approval, of their _love_. That he was a monster who was capable of only ruin and destruction was the only thing he would bring to them.

His face must have shifted to reflect his anguish, for Frigga suddenly reached for him and brought Loki's hand inside the bubble, their joined hands resting over Odin's heart.

"You are our son and we are your family. Never doubt this."

He wanted to believe it, so much he wished it to be the truth. He squeezed her hand painfully and looked into her eyes.

"I still remember the day Odin brought you to me. He rode ahead of the armies and marched into this very room, smelling like battle, smoke and rotting flesh, his armor was covered in blood and in his tattered cloak, he had wrapped you. You were his first concern, Loki, not his own wounds but delivering you to me, taking you home."

Loki looked down at his father, focusing on the spot where the eye patch was. He knew that Odin had lost his eye in the final battle on Jotunheim. His father's words came back to him: _In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple and I found a baby. Abandoned, suffering, left to die… You are my son._

And so he was. He was not a son of the Jotun king who had left him to death. He was a son of the Asgardian king who had brought him up. His father's voice replaced the cold whispers, repeating again and again four words. _You are my son._

"I failed him, mother." The thumping of his father's heart was so very faint; he almost couldn't feel it underneath his palm. "I'm so sorry. He banished Thor. How can he ever forgive me?"

"He gave your brother a way to redeem himself and I trust he will manage. What do you think you should do, then?" Frigga squeezed Loki's hand and smiled when he readily answered:

"Redeem myself, too. Prove to be worthy of his name, just like Thor has to."

The God of Mischief looked down at his father and smiled determinedly. It was said that Odin was aware of the happenings around him even deep in his sleep. Loki had never asked him if it was true but hoped so. He wished that his father would hear and know that he was trying to make things right again.

With Thor gone and his father in Odinsleep, there was only him left to rule Asgard and rule he would. This was his chance to prove to his king that he too was fit for throne and that Odin could be proud of him. This was Loki's chance to earn his father's approval.

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Would anyone be interested in more chapters? Let me know ;) Thanks


	2. Sitting on the throne

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters of this story and I do not make any money. It's written for entertainment purposes only. Thank you.

Read and review, have fun and forgive any potential mistakes; English is my second language, though I had help of a great beta. Sephaya, thank you.

* * *

**2. Sitting on the throne**

"Allfather, we must speak with you…" Sif was the first to stride into the throne room and she was the first to see the man sitting on the throne. She finished her sentence lamely, "…urgently."

"My friends." Loki watched the four warriors approach and he smiled at their perplexed expressions. His helm with horns was rather impressive, yes, though he did believe it was the Gungnir in his hand that caught most of their attention. Odin rarely let anyone touch let alone _wield_ his magical spear.

"Where's Odin?"

He looked them up and slowly leaned forward, one elbow resting on his knee. He could easily guess what the four of them wanted. _Thor_. Their loyalty would have been touching if it was not so annoyingly inconvenient right now.

Loki closed his eyes briefly, not letting them to see how weary he felt. His mother's voice resonated within his mind, as it always did when he had been off with Thor's friends, _Play nice, honey._

"Father has fallen into the Odinsleep." He straightened. He would not think about the fact that he might not wake again, at least not anytime soon. The thought was ridiculous. The King of Asgard was needed by his people, Loki knew he himself relied heavily on his father's strength and he simply tried to ignore the unpleasant possibility that Odin would be sleeping forever.

_Your fault, it is **your** fault._ Loki tried to shake off the vicious voices and focus on the warriors. Now was not the time to brood, now was the time to listen to them. He had a role to play.

They approached, distrustful and watching him warily. Well, they had never really gotten along. His big brother's friends saw him as the little brat always lurking in the shadows, spoiling their fun, snitching on them if they wanted to do something stupidly dangerous… which they wanted to do regularly.

"We would speak with the Queen, then." Sif demanded.

Chuckling, Loki lifted his eyebrows. _The tables have turned, my friends_.

Sif or any of them were not in a position to demand anything from him. The long stairs separating the throne from the rest of the hall were evidence enough of this fact and Gungnir in his left hand further proved exactly where they stood.

"She is guarding my father." He informed them. Odin was at his most vulnerable in his sleep and Frigga refused to leave their shared bedroom. He perfectly understood that, he found it hard himself to turn his back on his helpless father. "She would not leave his bedside and seeing as nobody except family is allowed into their chambers, she will speak to no one."

Beat of silence, their stares. Did they think he was up to something? Amusement flickered in his eyes. He was, most of the time, and he was even now.

"You can bring this surely urgent matter to me." Loki slowly stood up clad in his usual green and the gold, foregoing the silver of a prince for the time being. He looked so different from his father's and brother's ruby red designs. Gungnir thudded, hitting the ground as Loki drawn himself up to his full height. "Your Prince Regent."

He had considered using the title of a king but Loki was no king. His father was and the prince wanted to be clear on that matter – he was acting as the ruler only temporarily. One day, perhaps, he would assume his role as the King of Asgard, or so he hoped, though it would not be now. He felt that there was too much for him to learn yet.

His brother's friends exchanged glances and then they bowed, accepting his rule, albeit grudgingly; they slowly sank to their knees, their right fists resting over their hearts. Loki nodded to himself, most satisfied.

It was Sif again who spoke: "My prince, we would ask that you end Thor's banishment."

_Of course they would._ Loki chuckled and started towards them, Gungnir thudding ominously with each of his steps. For these four, there was only Thor that mattered.

"I cannot do that." He said regretfully when he stood in front of them, one hand motioning for them to stand, which they did. In comparison to them, he was lightly built, lithe and slim, not at all physically imposing like his brother or Fandral and Volstagg were.

"My first command cannot be to undo my father's last." He looked into Sif's eyes first. She was watching him with barely concealed distaste.

"We are on the brink of war with Jotunheim now." He moved his eyes towards Hogun who was politely expressionless, face and eyes revealing nothing.

"You were there, you fought them." He looked at Fandral who smiled slightly in remembrance of their fight.

"You endured their sting." His gaze settled at Volstagg and then looked down at his arm meaningfully. After that, the warriors shifted uncomfortably. They had been injured – Fandral stabbed, Volstagg burned by their touch. All of them had almost died there.

"Thor has been banished to Earth to live as a mortal and stripped of all of his powers for his arrogance and his treason. Father sent him there to learn a lesson. Even if I decided to summon him back, and by doing so dishonored my father's wishes _again_, he would be powerless to help us in any battle. Do you wish to see my brother dead?"

"Of course not!" Fandral said quickly and caught Sif by the arm before she could say something regrettable.

"If I may, is there no way you could return his powers to him?" Volstagg asked politely. "Thor is our greatest warrior, my prince, the rightful heir to the throne. Surely it would be better if it was him who would lead us into the battle…"

_Rightful heir to the throne?_ He almost scoffed at that thought; as long as Loki shared Odin's name, there was no rightful heir to the throne of Asgard, there were two brothers who could claim the right, but neither Loki nor Thor was the sole heir.

"Only Thor himself can do that." Loki said after a moment and looked up into his face, shrugging. He was certain it would take his brother a while to even understand that he had done something wrong, let alone to learn from it. Thor would not return anytime soon.

"When he is worthy to wield Mjolnir, his powers return to him and then he will be welcomed home." _Not before, though_. In his current state, his brother would be a liability and Loki truly did not wish to see Thor dead or seriously hurt. They were brothers and he cared for him, unfortunately; it would have been so much easier just to hate him.

Volstagg glowered at the word _worthy_ and then looked back at the rest of the warriors. In that moment, Loki could see trouble brewing – if he was not careful, these four would sooner or later disobey him and nobody knew what that could unleash. He could not afford another disaster.

He carefully selected his next words: "My wish is to prevent any bloodshed, as my father's wish was. I am going to Jotunheim to negotiate a truce."

"Thor would never try to negotiate with our enemies!" Sif spat.

Thor was the perfect prince for the Asgardians, a mighty warrior as most of them were. Only this time, the muscles were not going to save the day; with Odin asleep and his brother powerless, how could Asgard possibly prevail? It pained Loki to admit it, but Thor was a great warrior and his presence itself would boost Asgardians armies' confidence in victory – of course, he would probably kill half of the soldiers in a reckless charge, too.

The prince took a deep breath; now all the responsibilities and decisions were his and his only and he saw their only chance lay in cunning and cleverness. Those were his strong points, not the art of warfare. Couldn't they see it? Was he surrounded only by idiots?

_Yes, I am._

"Asgard is in no position to wage a war right now. We are facing our possible destruction because of Thor's recklessness." Loki took off his helmet and sighed, shifting his weight and looking at them from the corner of his eye. "You are free to visit Earth and inform my brother of what his actions led to."

They looked at each other uncertainly. _You didn't expect that, right? _Loki mentally grinned, though his face became weary and he let them see the strain he was under. They might believe – or not. He didn't care either way and rubbed his eyes, continuing bitingly:

"Don't forget to mention that our father is in a deep sleep because of the strain our journey to Jotunheim put on him. And do inform him that mother thinks he may never wake and I am usurping the throne taking advantage of these circumstances. Who would not want to rule in this time of total chaos and imminent danger?"

With that, he jammed his helmet back on and managed to look down his nose at them.

"Let's stop this, shall we? I am very well aware that you don't like me and you don't trust me. The feeling is mutual."

Fandral casually rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, Volstagg fisted his mighty hands, Hogun shifted his weight, ready to leap into action, and Sif slowly moved her hands behind her back, where she had her two hidden daggers. Loki knew their habits well.

_Traitors, filthy traitors._ His upper lip curled and for a moment he actually wondered if they were going to attack him right on the spot. Part of him wanted them to. It would be a plausible excuse to get rid of them permanently…

**_Loki!_** Frigga's voice stopped that particular train of thought and the prince shivered slightly, banishing his dark musings. If these idiots would attack, he could lock them up in the dungeons and make sure they would not do anything stupid.

"I don't need you to get in the way in these difficult times, I don't need to be worrying whether or not you are going to stab me in the back with one of those daggers you have behind yours, Sif. Your loyalty is not with Asgard, it lies with my brother, so go join him on Earth. I'll summon you when our home is safe."

"I am loyal to Asgard and King Odin!" cried Volstagg indignantly and took a menacing step towards Loki. "Don't you dare to say otherwise, Loki!"

The guards behind the prince tensed up. At least someone was loyal to the throne and the person sitting on it.

"And so am I!" He brusquely said and shoved him away with the lower end of his spear, creating a distance between them. "Don't _you_ dare to suggest otherwise!"

He breathed in deeply in order to calm down and clutched the Gungnir tightly. He was tired of dealing with them. "What Asgard needs is unity. You either help, or leave."

The warriors watched him and he watched _them_ – there was very brief eye contact between Sif and Fandral, Fandral and Volstagg and Volstagg and Hogun. He noticed and inwardly chuckled, wondering if they thought him to be blind. _Oh my, that could be interesting._

"Fair enough." Sif said, gave him a mocking bow and marched out. Hogun bowed a little deeper and said: "We shall we depart for Earth immediately." He then followed her.

Volstagg and Fandral watched them go silently and it was the blond lover-boy who politely asked: "Would you need an escort to Jotunheim, my liege?"

So now they were providing him with his own personal babysitters? These two actually believed themselves to be capable of spying on him? Loki sized him up and then shrugged, moving out of the throne room. "Do as you wish, Fandral."

"You need an escort, my prince!" Volstagg jogged up to him. "We cannot trust them!"

_Indeed, you cannot trust a Frost giant._ Loki gripped Gungnir and grimly smiled. _Never trust a Frost giant._

"Be ready in an hour, I'll meet you by the Bifrost."


	3. The matter of trust

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters of this story and I do not make any money. It's written for entertainment purposes only. Thank you.

Read and review, have fun and forgive any potential mistakes; English is my second language, though I had help of a great beta. Sephaya, thank you.

* * *

**3. The matter of trust**

Frigga looked up only briefly when Loki entered the chamber, fixing her gaze back on Odin's motionless form and murmuring a quiet greeting.

"I'm leaving for Jotunheim." The warm air in his parents' chambers made him relax and Loki sighed and slipped off his helm, shedding his cloak on his way towards them. _Just let me catch my breath before the storm breaks._

"Do you think it's a wise decision, Loki?" She frowned a little and watched him from the corner of her eye, obviously not happy about his second journey to the Frost giants' world.

"Of course not, Mother, but what other choices do I have?" He sank down on his usual chair, Odin's magical spear rested against his knee. He didn't want to take any risks – Frigga had her sword in arm's reach, too. Looking at his father, the prince asked: "How is he? Will you be all right in the mean time?"

"No changes." She answered wearily and closed her eyes, resting her forehead on Odin's shoulder while her hand never left her husband's. "You should stop worrying about us. What has to be, will."

Loki observed them with peculiar feeling of detachment like a stranger might. His parents had spent thousands of years loving each other and Loki wondered if he was facing the possibility of losing both of them at once; Frigga would not last long if Odin died, she would simply fade away with grief, missing the other half of her soul. She was strong and stubborn, the Queen of their people who would hate to leave them behind, though Loki could almost see the invisible bonds binding his parents together to such an extent that even Death could not keep them separated for long. Frigga was the beating heart to Odin's sharp mind; she was the burning emotions to his practical logic. They needed each other to function, to live.

The thought of emotional closeness to another being, such dependency and devotion, was for Loki both enticing and frightening at once and he could not imagine ever finding someone whom he could trust so completely to let them see yet alone merge with his own…

_Of course not. Frost giants do not have souls, right?_

"Loki?" Frigga touched his fist.

He started, focusing his bleary eyes towards her face. "I'm sorry, yes?"

"Where have you just been, my dear?" She asked, looking at Gungnir warily and Loki slowly released the tight grip he had on the weapon and looked up – its tip was spitting angry sparks. He stared at it bewildered and then looked at his mother. Her eyes gleamed with some hidden revelation Loki could not understand and then she repeated her previous question: "Why are you going to Jotunheim, Loki?"

"To negotiate the possibility of a truce." He couldn't help it and grimaced

"Jotuns don't want a truce, they want our blood." She stated grimly. "They never forgot and will never forgive. Now, their numbers have grown and they are ready to wage a new war against us. Asgard is the only thing that blocks their path to Earth…"

"Father wanted to keep the truce." He released Frigga's hand and hesitatingly reached towards Odin. After a moment he squeezed his father's fingers lightly and withdrew. Pensively, he fixed his gaze at Gungnir and his eyebrows rose, the prince continuing gravely: "If this option fails, then yes. Jotuns will have their war. I truly wish to avoid it, though. I'm no warrior, Mother, and I see no good in the meaningless bloodshed of my people."

"Now you speak as a king, my son."

"And I'm no king, either." Loki frowned and shook his head. Thor would consider such hesitation as a weakness, though Thor was not using his brain most of the time. Yet people loved him while Loki was always just tolerated and the younger prince mused over another reason why he did not wish to wage war, the one hidden deep in his subconscious. _No king, no warrior… Why would the armies follow __**me**__ into the battle?_

"Loki." Frigga said forcefully. "Don't stray, my love. I need you to be strong. You are not alone in any of this."

Catching his free hand, she whispered: "_Son_, stay with me."

The simple sentence was enough to bring the prince out of his dark thoughts and he painfully clutched her hand and swallowed. He would stay with her – no matter how dark and cold the places his thoughts were leading him to, he would always find his way back to Asgard, back to home. Frigga was his mother and he would not allow her to deal with this on her own.

"Yes."

For a moment the prince allowed his mind to stray once more; what it would be like to not feel his mother's support? She believed in him when others had their doubts and Loki was very grateful for Frigga's trust and love. She was the only one that truly did notice his black moods and knew how to keep him from wreaking his brand of mischievous havoc; how to pull back from the darkness.

"You are taking someone with, aren't you?" She squeezed his hand last time before she started fluffing Odin's pillow. His father would have protested, he hated when mother was fussing over him; Loki could easily imagine the grumblings he voiced gruffly, while he let Frigga do as she pleased. That brought a small smile to his face and he answered in light tone:

"Fandral and Volstagg decided to tag along; they were surely worried I am planning something wicked."

"And are you?"

"No, I am not." He grinned. "However, I may have several unpleasant surprises for anyone who decides to act unfriendly towards mine person."

"Loki." Her voice warned him while he tried to look innocent and decided that a quick departure was needed. The two warriors were probably on their way to the Bifrost, anyway. He quickly got up and moved around the bed to kiss Frigga on both of her cheeks.

"Do not worry, mother. It will be okay. I have to go, now. Goodbye."

"Be careful, honey."

When was Loki approaching the Observatory and its keeper, he was perfectly composed again and nothing of his inner struggles could be seen on the outside. He showed confidence in each of his movements, the gold of his breastplate and helmet gleaming in the late afternoon sun. His horse pounded the iridescent bridge and Gungnir by his side flashed from time to time as if in expectation of the future events.

The young prince was rather amused by that behavior – he had never witnessed it before, though father told him once or twice that Gungnir had its own mind, just as Mjolnir had.

Volstagg and Fandral were already waiting for him, standing solemn and quiet next to Heimdall. They were prepared this time – both were wearing their full plate armors designed to withstand the fiercest of battles and their winter cloaks. Fandral had a shield stripped to his right arm and his rapier was replaced with light long sword. Volstagg's usual one handed weapon was missing – he was casually leaning on heavy double edged war axe almost as tall as himself.

The bulky warrior grinned: "My prince, we are prepared for the Jotuns, though you look a little… underdressed."

Loki dismounted his horse, in his partial armor and without any other visible weapons light on his feat, and take off his helmet, gazing at him more than a little amused by the comment. "Am I?"

"Young Loki," spoke the Gatekeeper, his amber eyes sizing him up. "I was informed by these two rascals that you intend to reach Jotunheim. Is it true?"

"It is, Gatekeeper Heimdall."

"King Odin forbade any further contact with their realm. Portal to Jotunheim is closed and sealed in both ways." He stated dismissively and moved to stand in front of the entrance of the Observatory, crossing his arms on the hilt of his formidable sword.

_No one here trusts you. Why is that? _Loki well remembered the slighting manner in which Heimdall had treated him in the past and the prince did not appreciate it. Now, when the truth about his roots was clear to him, Loki wondered if the Gatekeeper had known from the beginning. Nevertheless, it would be a pleasure to teach him a lesson and injure his pride, even if Loki would need to forego his little secret in order to do so. He could use it for his own advantage, after all.

"Then you will have to unseal and open it again, won't you, Heimdall?" Loki mused aloud and then he took several menacing steps towards him and leaned closer, whispering: "Either that or I shall find my own way, Gatekeeper – a way you will not be aware of and therefore unable to watch with that pretty eyes of yours."

They looked at each other for a few moments and then Heimdall's face darkened. Gungnir spear heated up in Loki's hand and he felt its power surge, coursing through it into his own body.

"So it was you. You let the Jotuns in."

This statement was met with disbelief and outrage of the two warriors and they shouted and started moving closer. Loki completely ignored them, his eyes fixed only at the object of his ire, forgetting everything else.

"And you did not see it, Keeper." He mocked and grinned when Heimdall quickly moved his sword up, intending to strike. The prince hit the ground with Gungnir and in the moment the big man lunged at him, he was surrounded by a shimmering dome of light. The sword rebounded and Heimdall painfully hissed and stumbled backwards two steps, his hands clutching his weapon tightly.

"Traitor!" Volstagg reached them, his axe ready to fall.

"Wait!" Fandral stopped him before he could try to hit the barrier and turned towards the prince and gatekeeper. "Why don't we all calm down, my friends? Prince Loki surely would like to explain."

"You are no ruler of mine, Loki of Asgard. As long as it is my duty to guard the Bifrost, you and yours alike shall not come anywhere near it." Heimdall said, and in the fleeting look he gave him were all the answers Loki needed. He knew about his Jotun blood and he dared to flaunt it right in front of him. Loki of Asgard, he had said, not Loki _Odinson_. That was making it easier for the prince.

"Look who is speaking," Loki lazily turned his head towards Volstagg and then back to Heimdall. "Tell me, honorable Heimdall, who let us pass against my father's orders into Jotunheim? Tell me, righteous Volstagg and you, fair-minded Fandral, who started the war with the Jotuns?"

"You did!"

"Did I? How so?"

"You orchestrated the whole thing, fraternizing with the enemy to get rid of Thor, to get rid of our King and to claim the throne for yourself!"

_What?! _Loki growled dangerously and struck Volstagg right in the middle of his breastplate with much more force than an hour ago in the throne room, pushing him nearly towards the edge of the bridge. Fandral leapt up and kept him steady, both of them glaring daggers at their prince.

_Keep it up and I swear…_ Loki closed his eyes and with a great effort banished those thoughts from his mind. He could not let them provoke him, he needed to be strong, he needed to be calm, he needed to focus, cast aside all of his selfish ambitions and petty disputes. This was going nowhere; he bickered like a little boy, while time was ticking away.

What is the making of a great leader? He needed to trust in himself and in his people; he needed the trust _of_ his people. His father had taught him well, even though Loki had not agreed then, he could see its wisdom now.

_They could follow me, if they could __**trust**__ me._ He exhaled in order to calm down and looked at them from the corner of is eye. Asgardians valued truth and honesty, something he found quite painful in these days, but necessary. Sacrifices needed to be made.

"I did let the Jotuns inside of Asgard to interrupt Thor's coronation, yes." The prince stated and looked away, into the swirling stairs of the universe around them. "I wanted to needle my brother; everyone knows I needle him. It was a childish, petty act of jealousy and I do regret it and I do take responsibility of it. We all share some blame in the events that followed."

The protective bubble disappeared and he slowly put his helm on, a thin smile appearing on his face. He took a step towards the silent, observing Gatekeeper, glancing back at the two warriors.

"Why I am telling you this? My people deserve to know the truth. I'm telling you the truth, because I need you to trust me just as I need to know I can trust you. Observe me, Gatekeeper, use your great sight and tell me what you see. Swing your sword if you feel like it. You know which blood you would shed, don't you?"

_Let's play._ He bowed his head fractionally and widely spread out his arms. Heimdall examined him closely, his sword at ready and his strange eyes roaming over the prince's frame. Finally, he settled his gaze into Loki's face and for a very long moment looked deep into his eyes. Something in there must have been convincing enough.

"You've come a long way in a matter of days, I see no traces of the boy you used to be, and I cannot see the man you are becoming either. Only the Norns can tell now." He lowered his voice. "You are free to depart, though be warned, Prince Loki, I'll be watching."

Loki frowned a little and then nodded. Having Heimdall as an ally was much better than having him as an enemy and he was glad he decided to take the risks. He turned his head towards his brother's friends. "Shall we continue, or do you wish to remain here?"

"We await your order, my liege." Fandral forced out as politely as he could manage and with tight grip on Volstagg, he moved closer. "However, I would like to ask you a question, if I may."

"Of course, I'll answer truthfully." Loki said graciously, though he expected they would last longer; none of Thor's friends was sly and patient enough to play this game. They followed Heimdall inside.

"You spoke of loyalty and trust, my liege. It's hard to imagine you, the trickster, speaking the truth. You are called the God of Mischief, as I'm sure you are aware."

"You flatter me too much, Fandral. In short, you are asking why you should bestow something as fragile as trust and as precious as loyalty onto me, am I right?"

"Yes, my prince." Volstagg said. It was almost amusing how the large man easily slipped from state of absolute anger into polite calm and vice versa. He knew at least the basics of good manners, though, which made him bearable to keep around.

They stopped before the portal while Heimdall readied the Bifrost and slowly activated it. The Prince shifted his weight into a fighting stance, holding Gungnir in both hands. He only partly turned his head towards them, while both warriors stood behind him, flanking his side; the left-handed Fandral on Loki's left, Volstagg on his right.

"I'll show you."


	4. Jotunheim

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters of this story and I do not make any money. It's written for entertainment purposes only. Thank you.

Read and review, have fun and forgive any potential mistakes; English is my second language, though I had help of a great beta. Sephaya, thank you.

And thank you all for the reviews :) I appreciate every single one of them.

* * *

**4. Jotunheim**

Traveling by Bifrost had one major disadvantage – it was so very noticeable. When the Asgardians landed in Jotunheim, they found themselves surrounded by tens of grim looking Frost giants – and more were coming with their weapons made of ice out of their shattered dwellings.

Fandral and Volstagg immediately sprung into fighting stances, ready to strike, though Loki relaxed his and casually leaned on Gungnir, observing the solemn, weary expressions on their faces. They did not look like bloodthirsty monsters, more like wretched, lost souls – yet something in their postures gave him a pause. They were far from helpless and even further from weak. _They were survivors._

"Let me see your king." He commanded with a voice of cold politeness, presenting the perfect picture of the God of Mischief with a glint in his eyes and a half smile playing across his lips.

"You are the ones who came several days ago, the bloodthirsty youngsters. Have you come for more blood?" One Jotun said, his red eyes moving from one Asgardian to another. "Where is the boy? The Asgardians' little prince."

That was a rather fitting description of his brother – his brother, who had desperately tried to prove himself a man. They had been both just boys back then. _Strange, how everything's changed._

"I see no children around here." Loki drew himself up to his full height, which was not much in comparison with the Giants, and his words were accompanied with a flash from Gungnir. "I came to speak with the Jotun King, nothing more and nothing less."

"Father does not wish to speak with thieves and murderers." The Jotun leaned closer to Loki while the prince simply stared up at him. He was very well built, slightly shorter but broader in shoulders than other Giants around them, and there was something in his face that seemed familiar. It took Loki a second to realize that he shared with this Jotun the same arch of eyebrows and the shape of forehead. He was looking at his brother by _blood_ and wondered if the Jotun could see what Loki saw, if there were other similarities they might share.

"I am neither a thief nor a murderer, I am Prince Loki of Asgard and I need to speak to King Laufey." He answered slowly. If he remembered his childhood lessons correctly, Jotuns valued sly minds, ruthless strength and self-reliant confidence and their society was ruled by those values. Only the strong could live in their world. "Let me pass or I shall make my own passage."

The Giant grinned in another eerily familiar gesture, his smile splitting his face from ear to ear, and mockingly bowed as if welcoming him to try. Loki decided that he did not like him much; they were too much alike, it was like seeing his most irritating traits in a mirror. Then he hit the ground with his spear and light flashed; the Jotuns surrounding them were pushed few feet back.

"Get out of my way, Jotuns."

Before they could react, Gungnir thudded again, forcing them apart in front of the Prince of Asgard. The power hidden in the weapon was formidable and Loki was quite pleased that he was able to wield it so easily. He was a skilled sorcerer, much better at wielding magic than swords or axes or hammers, thought magical weapons like Gungnir seemed to work for him just fine.

_Magic tricks and illusions, indeed. _With an audacity and confidence he did not entirely possess, he started forward, with tense Fandral and Volstagg closely behind, and the Jotuns moved out of his way after their own Prince thundered in deep voice: "Let them pass!"

This time around, Loki closely observed the realm that was his birthplace. It was dark and so very cold. His Asgardian companions were shivering slightly and there was a small puff of vapor with every breath that exiled their bodies; he was not as affected, though he doubted they had noticed. The ground was hard and unforgiving under their feet – only black ugly stone of which they had built also their dwellings. What a dreadful, broken place, bleak and miserable.

_No wonder they wanted Midgard. Who would wish to stay here?_ He grimaced and wondered what had happened to their realm or had it always been such a hostile, dying place? The first time, he was apprehensive of Thor's behavior, indifferent to Jotunheim's people. Now, looking around and seeing the desolation and palpable heartbreaking lifelessness, he felt pity and maybe even a bit of grief. As his mind reminded him, he was born one of them and he recognized how lucky he had been not to be raised as one of them.

His thoughts returned to the matter at hand as they approached the ruins of what once must have been the palace. The structures destroyed in the war with Asgard and over the centuries that had followed were replaced by ice and snow and Loki noticed how his warm-blooded warriors turned pale, their lips becoming almost blue. The Jotun Prince had followed closely behind and now the four of them stood in the middle of a devastated open area. On the far end there was an ice throne where King Laufey sat.

Loki was very pleased to know that his features were nothing like Laufey's.

"Kill them." He said in a bored voice, dismissing them.

_Not so fast!_ Loki frowned and quickly found just the right thing to say. "After all I have done for you?"

He stepped forward and grinned. Fandral behind him silenced Volstagg with withering glare and both warriors readied themselves for a fight to death. _Maybe they will stay quiet during the whole audience._

"So it was you who let my men slip inside of Asgard." He raised a dark eyebrow and his red eyes blinked slowly. He leaned forward, one elbow resting on his knee and Loki was strongly reminded by his own habitual gesture. He had to reprimand himself harshly: _Don't get distracted._

The Jotun King continued lazily: "Tell me, Asgardian, why would you do that?"

"To have some fun and to spoil my brother's big day." He shrugged, displaying only indifferent boredom. As if an afterthought occurred to him, he added: "Pity your men weren't quick enough."

"Pity, yes. What do you want from me?"

"Alliance."

After Loki's words, everyone just stared at him and the young prince felt all of his uncertainty and doubts rushing back. He had no precise plans; he was simply going with the current, so to speak. Although his main goal was to achieve what his father had wanted – permanent peace between these two realms without constant worry. Stopping immediate conflict was the first step, he was sure that long years of diplomacy would be needed then, and lots of compromises, and the right kind of _bait_.

"You have nothing to offer, youngling."

_Ah, here we go._ Loki readied himself and took a deep breath. For the young prince, this was the moment of truth – he would either succeed or fail. He moistened his lips and let his voice flowed in impressive cascades of velvety tones, dripping honey and just a tiny bit of poison.

"I think I have to disagree with you, King Laufey; I have something you want very much and, it seems, are unable to procure on your own. It was not the intention of Asgard to start a war and break our highly-valued truce. As an act of goodwill and offering of peace, the Casket of Ancient Winters could return to Jotunheim."

"The Casket is not yours to give." He growled menacingly. "Your people stole it from us!"

"It belongs to Asgard, it was created by our best craftsmen and it was originally your people who borrowed it." Loki stopped and continued suggestively, like a tempter. "You cannot deny it; the design of the Casket is obviously Asgardian, though it doesn't have to lie there needlessly while it could be put to a good use elsewhere, don't you think, my lord? What I am offering you now is the possibility to borrow it in a more official way, so you can restore your realm to its previous glory."

Silence reigned for what seemed like several minutes, every eye watching Loki and the young prince grinned inwardly. He so loved to make others speechless. He had no intention of giving the Casket to them – that would not please his father much – though showing benevolence and goodwill, treating the Jotuns as sentient beings and not as the monsters Thor thought them to be certainly would not hurt.

_They are monsters, just like you…_ He stopped listening to that voice, banishing it with single memory of his mother's smile and gruff chuckle of his father. He was _not_, and so they _weren't_.

"Keep your peace offer, young Loki." The Jotun King said coldly as if scolding a child and after a long breath he continued with great anger: "I do not desire to be in league with rotten Asgard! Let the Allfather know that I will not bear his generosity for no Jotun is his subject. Odin of Asgard is nothing but a murderer and liar. Let him know that his son Thor the Foolish will get what he so desired and not even your silver tongue can spare your kingdom. I shall bring death and destruction to Asgard just as you did to us."

"My Prince." Volstagg shook with restrain and Fandral looked at Loki, waiting for any kind of reaction, both of them yearning for a fight, to wash away these insults with their enemies' blood.

_Destruction. Desolation. Death. _Loki's small smile turned sour and he nodded once and bowed a little, trying to banish all bitter disappointment and silencing the inner voices that started chanting spitefully what a failure he was. _Shut up, shut up!_

In his position, failure was not so much unexpected, even if it burnt painfully, spreading like poison throughout his bloodstream. In quiet, somber voice he said to the Jotun King: "If this is your wish, King Laufey, so be it."

To his men, or his brother's men, to be precise, he said: "We'll leave, now; battle will find us soon enough."

Both warriors nodded, seemingly content with that. For Loki, it felt strange to promise them something Thor would have promised, with every intention of keeping his word. Battle would find them.

"Helblindi, escort them back to the Bifrost site. I want Odin to know what is coming." The King nodded towards his Jotun son and then watched as the Asgardians, closely surrounded by guards, left the windy freezing place serving as his throne room without walls and roof.

The Giant walked silently ahead of them, waving others out of their way and in harsh tones of his mother tongue ordering them to mind their own business. Slowly, they departed from the ruins of the palace and grayish snow started to fall. The guards fell behind and when the small group was out of hearing range of others, almost at the Bifrost site, Helblindi stopped and looked down at the Asgardians.

His red gaze was hard and searching when it landed on Loki and he whispered: "Did you mean it, Prince Loki?"

"What exactly, Prince Helblindi?" He returned, well aware of the piercing stares they both received from his escort, well aware that Heimdall was watching. He felt completely drained, though, and he did not desire to conceal anything before those who would be his allies in the next difficult weeks, or months. Loki had mentally prepared for this possibility, and yet the defeat came as a shock, leaving bitter taste behind, and he was fighting for keeping his composure, or at least to appear calm and steady. Odin's voice successfully drowned the myriads of others shouting at him inside: _Come now, Loki. No matter how many times you fail, you have to try again. Never give up hope. _

"The alliance…the peace offer." Helblindi grunted seriously and Loki for a moment doubted he had ever seen a glint of mischief in the young Jotun's eyes. The Giant looked just as weary as he felt and seriously inquired: "Did you?"

"Yes."

"It brings me only small relief, Prince Loki, though I appreciate your gesture nonetheless." He nodded his head, his massive shoulders sagging and his eyes closing for a brief moment, tired sigh escaping his blue lips. Then one red orb gleamed in the dimness around them and he uttered:

"My father's only wish is the destruction of Asgard and the death of the Allfather and now he has the perfect excuse. I'm afraid you chose the wrong moment and the wrong monarch."

_Well, well, brother dear._ Loki tried not to appear surprised and both princes looked at each other carefully. He almost immediately understood what this Jotun wanted to convey and new web of plans and possibilities stretched in front of his inner eye, giving him hope for less bloodied solution. There would be blood that was certain, though maybe his aims were not entirely impossible given enough time. He softly answered:

"War is a nasty thing, my dear Helblindi. Were there some, let's say, change in the kingship, I am sure the offer could be repeated."

Helblindi looked around casually, as if shrugging some sort of Loki's remark, though his keen eyes were searching for unwanted witnesses. Satisfied, he returned his attention to Loki, whispering:

"Is that so? Well, my dear Loki, in that case I feel compelled to inform you that not every one of our Clan Chiefs is thrilled about the prospect of another meaningless killing and who knows, given some time and certain circumstances, such a change just might occur."

Now was his turn to shift gaze around and he focused on Fandral and Volstagg. The warriors were pale and tense, distrustfully watching everything in their vicinity. They tried to hear every word exchanged, too.

"I am sure that these certain circumstances can be arranged between the two of us. Perhaps some unfortunate accidents or grave errors of judgment and leadership would leave the King support-less."

He waited for a heartbeat, searching the Jotun's face for any sign of offense – and he found none. The Frost giant looked rather pleased with the turn of their conversation, as Loki himself was. It was not so much that Loki went looking for mischief; mischief always seemed to find him. In most cases, the fishy things he did were harmless, in some not – now it could even be useful. Another game was on.

"Yes, it is a sad truth that these kind of things simply happen, isn't it?"

Helblindi bowed slightly and winked while Loki shook his head and placed his right fist over his heart; the small clever smiles gracing their features were almost identical.

"It was fascinating meeting you outside of a battlefield, Prince of Asgard. Who would have thought how satisfying this conversation could turn out to be?"

"Truly remarkable, I must agree with you, Prince of Jotunheim; a very interesting meeting with a very agreeable conclusion."

Helblindi took a step back and straightened up, gazing around again, before settling his red eyes on Loki. He smiled a bit and motioned with his hand for them to start moving. "Hurry, Asgardians. I'll keep in touch."

Loki nodded to Fandral and Volstagg, both of them coming closer to him at once, and raised his hand to something similar to a salute for his blood-brother. How strange it was to refer to the Jotun as such, yet it did not felt wrong, it felt normal and the momentary dislike he had taken for him was forgotten. He did not trust him, of course; he did not trust others in general, though in time… Who knows? Maybe a little faith would not hurt him, so for now he would keep his mind open and trust a little in Prince Helblindi.

"Farewell." He said in a clear, strong voice and then called: "Heimdall, we are ready!"

When the beam of light swallowed them, he caught a glimpse of the Jotun's expression – it was a mix of bitterness and longing and it left Loki rather rattled and doubting Helblindi's motivation and plans. The young prince only hoped he was not endangering Asgard with his newest scheme and his newfound reliance on others and their words.

Words can be deceiving and others have to yet prove themselves.

Closing his eyes and holding Gungnir tightly, he breathed out deeply, letting himself be pulled through the seemingly infinite space passing by the shining bright stars. He would see soon enough and one thing was certain: if anyone would try to trick him, they would be in for a nasty surprise, indeed.


End file.
